Just Desserts
by ZabuFanfics
Summary: A prequel/sequel to "Cupcakes". How did Pinkie Pie come to start torturing ponies and put their remains in baked goods, and what eventually will become of her because of that? Eventually, everypony's number comes up. Rated M, just in case.


"Daddy, daddy, daddy!" The gray-toned pony looked over at his daughter bouncing happily at his feet. Her newly-poofy mane bounced as she did, the curls swaying wildly around as the young foal pranced around him, her little legs flailing in the air. She looked up at him with wide, happy eyes, those round, blue orbs just begging him to pay attention to her as she energetically circled around him. Any father would find the sight of their daughter bounding about happily- desperate for their attention- to be a regular treat -but not him. She should have been in the rock fields with her mother and her sisters, taking care of the harvest. But instead, she was here, circling him like some over-enthusiastic bird of prey, not contributing in any way to the family business and the rock farm. She'd been that way ever since she got that... disgusting cutie mark of hers. Those three brightly colored balloons forever marked on her flank should have been rocks, just like her sisters, but instead she'd been blessed -or cursed, in his opinion- with the passion to throw parties for even the smallest, slight thing that happened on the farm, and there was no doubt she just found a reason to throw another one.

"What?" He asked her, not even bothering to hold back even an ounce of annoyance in his voice. Along with that, his words were slurred, coming out in a tired sounding groan -possibly due to the now empty bottle of sarsaparilla sitting on the table top. His breath reeked of it, and his daughter, Pinkamena, wrinkled her nose for a bit and ceased her jumping. His somber, bothered reaction to her trying to get his attention seemed to sober her up enough to make her stop leaping around, but she still looked up at him with an eager smile, fidgeting in excitement. "If it's another one of your parties, the answer is no. The only thing you should be using that energy of yours for is harvesting rocks."

Pinkamena frowned slightly, lowering her head while still looking up at her father with hopeful eyes. Ever since she found her calling in life, it was almost as if her father was trying to suppress it more and more. The first party was a pleasant surprise, but lately it took her hours of coaxing her own sisters to take part in some much-needed merriment. Everyone seemed much too busy with the rock farm to have any fun, and lately, she hardly found the time to blow up balloons and hang streamers, what with the fact her father seemed to be working her the hardest out of everypony. Any mention of an idea for a party would be quickly put down by a sharp, "You should be outside harvesting rocks".

But Pinkamena wasn't completely disheartened, seeing as for once she hadn't come to him for permission to throw a party celebrating having harvested a certain number of rocks, or a party commemorating the party held the day before. She'd come to him to ask him for something -something she wanted very, very much. So, with a gulp, she swallowed her nerves and straightened back up -though she spoke in a softer tone and took a few hoof-steps in the opposite direction.

"It... it isn't about a party." She shook her head, pausing as she shuffled in place, her hooves making hallow noises against the wooden floor.

"Then what is it?" Her father asked, sounding even more annoyed with her now, even after the fact she'd put down his assumptions of her wanting to throw yet another party. Pinkamena drew back even further, second guessing herself over whether or not she should even tell him what she'd come inside for. Again, she had to gather her thoughts and convince herself to toughen up and look her father dead in his glazed-over eyes -despite how hard it was to do so.

"You... you know the Cake family... just down the street from here?" She asked him, but her question wasn't graced with a response- only a blank, uninterested stare. So, with a nervous chuckle, she continued on, uneasily clopping her hooves. "Well... I've been talking to them recently... and you know how they've been thinking of moving their business to Ponyville?"

"Just spit it out, Pinkamena!" Her father suddenly snapped, causing her to jump backward. But she did as she was told and practically shouted the rest of what she had planned to tell him in one single breath.

"They asked if I wanted to come with them, seeing as I've been helping them out at their shop every day! Mrs. Cake says she could really use me, and it would be a waste to stay here and-!" Before she could even finish she was forced to duck out of the way as something came flying towards her. With a gasp she threw herself to the side and clumsily fell onto the floor, and a surprised squeal escaped her lips when the shriek of glass shattering resonated from behind her. A shower of broken bottle pieces rained down on her as she curled defensively into a ball.

"WHAT did you say!?" Her father shouted furiously, getting up from his seat and loudly stomping over to his cowering daughter. "WHAT did you SAY!?" He stamped a single hoof against the floor, dangerously close to his daughter's face.

"I...I..." Pinkamena whimpered, trying to scoot away from her father's angrily-stamping hooves, but before she could escape he managed to trap a clump of her puffy, pink mane beneath a hoof and pulled her back close to him by it. She cried out in pain, curling into a tighter ball as a means to protect herself. "I said-"

"You aren't going ANYWHERE!" Her father bellowed, and out of the corner of her eye, Pinkamena could see her mother peer in from outside, only to give the two of them an almost emotionless glance before going back outside, off to go assure her sisters that everything was fine despite what they were hearing. "You belong HERE at this rock farm! You were born into this family, and you're going to take on the family business -none of this parties and cakes nonsense you've gotten into your head! You're a rock farmer, just like the rest of us, and you're meant to stay here!"

"N-No I'm not!" Pinkamena cried, big, salty tears welling up in her eyes and running down her cheeks as she tried feebly to free her mane out from under her father's hoof. "I'm supposed to go to Ponyville, I know I am! I wasn't meant to stay here! There are places I need to be!" With a loud sob, she finally pulled her hair out from under her father's weight, the tug taking a bit of her mane, unfortunately. But at this point, Pinkamena could hardly bring herself to care.

"You shut your mouth before I shut it for you!" Her father snarled as she stumbled wildly into the kitchen and caught herself on a nearby counter. "You are a disappointment to this family already, I refuse to have you running off somewhere to bake stupid cakes all day! You're not going to leave this farm, even if that means I have to break those puny legs of yours!" He charged at her, and with a scream of fright, Pinkamena reached behind her, her hoof finding something lying on the counter behind her. She didn't bother to even look at what it was, she just wanted something to defend herself with, no matter how small. She expected something like a frying pan, or maybe a mixing spoon... but as she swung it at her father when he drew close enough she came to find it was something much, much different.

A splash of crimson filled her vision as Pinkamena's father stumbled backward in surprise, a half groan-half gurgle escaping him. A splatter accompanied his pained noises as she looked down at what exactly she'd just picked up off the counter: a knife, now stained in her own father's blood. She looked between the blood-drenched kitchen tool and her father who was still in shock and stumbling backward as he tried to stop the bleeding from the spurting wound she had just left across his neck. In that moment, something inside of Pinkamena shattered and at the same time, something new awoke. Instead of feeling awful for the crime she had just committed, she galloped forward, now clutching the knife with purpose as she drove it deep into her father's chest. Blood burst from his lips, and he made a sound that seemed like he was trying to say her name, but it had been choked by the thick, pungent, crimson liquid. A furious -but at the same time, gleeful- sound crawled up out of Pinkamena's throat as she wrenched the knife out, only to plunge it back, deep into his skin. Even when he fell to the floor and his eyes began to roll back into his skull, she continued to attack him, staining her entire body red with the blood that flew from his now motionless body. Before too long, she was staring down at him, panting heavily with a sickening grin on her face that was stretching from ear to ear.

This strange, new form of exhilaration flowing through her felt almost like how she felt when she threw parties, only so, so much more! She felt like bouncing, she felt like singing!

"What's going on in-AAAH!" Pinkamena twisted her head around to find her mother standing in the doorway, her two sisters cowering behind her with the same horrified look that was on her mother's face -who was immediately close to tears at the sight that lay dead at the hands of her own daughter before her. Pinkamena looked over at the three of them, her smile never leaving her face.

"Come in, everyone!" She called out to them, stepping away from the body of her now very dead father. "I decided to put another party together, just for you! Come in, come in, don't be shy! This party is all for you, after all!"

* * *

Mrs. Cake sighed sadly to herself as her and her husband began the final touches of packing up their shop. It had been several days since she'd given the offer to Pinkamena to come with them to Ponyville and work at their cake shop. The young foal showed great promise -though she hardly had time to visit their shop and help them with baking, she seemed to have a natural talent for it. That sort of talent would be a waste to ignore, which was why she and her husband had made her the offer. Her working on her family's rock farm hardly suited her special talent, and she knew, from how she would always speak of her work and her family in a sadly somber way, that Pinkamena was far from happy. This would be an opportunity to change that, and she felt, at the time, she had done the right thing.

But she hadn't heard from Pinkamena in days- not even a word from her or her parents. As each day passed, she grew more and more worried for her, and thought to herself whether or not she'd made the right decision in offering the young foal a job. In their small, country community, word had spread fast that her father had grown much more cold and angry ever since Pinkamena discovered her special talent. He'd taken up drinking, and any pony who had wandered past the Pie family farm would hardly see him out working with his family, but they could definitely hear him yelling up a storm -mostly at his daughter he was convinced was a disappointment.

"Maybe I shouldn't have gotten the poor girl's hopes up." Mrs. Cake sighed aloud as she loaded the last of their supplies into the cart. "I'm afraid something awful has happened to her."

"Try not to think about that, I'm sure she's fine." Her husband assured her, not wanting her to think about something as horrible as Pinkamena ending up hurt -or worse- because they had offered her the opportunity to come to Ponyville and train under them. "You know her, she hates to ruin people's moods. I'm sure she just doesn't want to tell us she was turned down by her parents."

"I certainly hope that's the case..." Mrs. Cake sighed anxiously, but that one, saddened sound was drowned out by the sound of somepony running up the street, loudly calling their names.

"Mr. Cake! Mrs. Cake!" Both ponies whirled around as they heard the familiar, peppy voice call out to them. Much to their surprise and relief, there was Pinkamena, hopping gleefully down the dirt road to them, a well-packed sack thrown over her back that bounced about just as ecstatically as she. "I'm sososo glad I caught you before you left!"

"Pinkamena!" Mrs. Cake gasped as she trotted over to her, followed closely by her husband. "Are you alright!? I mean, we haven't heard from you in so long, we were starting to get quite worried!"

"No need to worry, Mrs. Cake!" Pinkamena grinned, coming to a full stop. "It just took a little more convincing than I thought, that's all. But mommy and daddy finally gave in and gave me permission to come, isn't that great!?" Before either of them had a chance to answer, Pinkamena began to riffle through her bag and produced a tray of cupcakes. They seemed a bit lopsided, and a little crumbly from being left in the bag with the rest of her belongings, but they certainly didn't look inedible. "Here, I made up cupcakes to celebrate! Sorry, they don't look all that great -we don't have as much baking supplies at the farm as you do." The Cakes shared a relieved look before obliging her and taking a pastry each. Even after the smallest taste, they came to find that, despite the presentation, these cupcakes were certainly not as average tasting as they looked.

"Pinkamena, these are amazing! The best you've ever made, if I do say so myself!" Mr. Cake congratulated the young foal. She beamed, her tail flipping about energetically as she did.

"I guess I can thank the secret ingredient for that!" She smiled.

"Secret ingredient?" The Cakes asked in unison. "What secret ingredient?"

"Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be a secret, now would it?" Pinkamena laughed.

"Oh, and one more thing! I'd like for you to call me Pinkie from now on, if that's alright with you."

* * *

"UGH!" Swinging a hoof angrily, Pinkie knocked a fresh tray of cupcakes from off the counter. With a crash and a clatter, the still warm pastries flew from the tray and scattered about the floor, becoming nothing but chunks of cake and crumbs. Leaning over the now empty counter, Pinkie panted furiously -so frustrated was she that she could hardly find it in herself to catch her breath. Tears stung her eyes and a warm lump grew larger and larger in her throat. The poofy-haired pony didn't know whether to cry sadly or to scream in anger. She'd tried -oh, Celesita, how she'd tried- but no matter what she did, she could never create a cupcake that was worth selling at the Cake's new shop in Ponyville.

Ever since they'd arrived there, she'd done nothing but bake -mostly with the help of Mr. or Mrs. Cake, which ended with a decent enough result. But when she tried to make something on her own, the pastries turned out as nothing but tasteless, mushy globs! No matter what she tried, no matter what ingredients she used, no cupcake -or anything for that matter- came out the way she hoped! She'd come there to bake -and did plenty of horrifying things to get there to boot- things that haunted her dreams- but all she was doing was failing. Miserably!

Sobbing loudly, the pink pony sank to the floor, her once frilly mane going flat as she cried.

"I can't do this!" She cried, letting her tears fall freely onto the floor covered in her failed attempt at baking all on her own. "How... how can I be happy if I can't even make a simple cupcake right!?"

Just then, a chill drifted through the air that was strong enough to make even Pinkie stop her sobs. It was as if a winter wind had just swept by, and had left her shivering. Somehow, her overwhelming sadness was replaced with fear. She didn't know how to describe it, but she could tell something else was in the room with her. Not a customer, not either of the Cakes -no, it was something strange, something sinister. Her tail twitched uncomfortably as another violent shiver clawed it's way up her spine. A floorboard creaked, a door swung open and shut slightly and then the soft sound of hooves against the wooden floor reached Pinkie's ears. Whoever it was, they weren't speaking to her -and for that matter, she couldn't even hear them breathing.

"W...Who's there?" She dared to ask as she slowly turned around -but immediately regretted having done so. Standing before her, towering at a height even more lofty than Celestia herself, was a creature only known about from stories and from the darkest nightmares of ponies. It's name only passed through the lips of those going or gone insane from fear -or those who shortly after, would mysteriously vanish. It was a creature that always lurked in the corner of one's vision. It stalked it's prey, always remaining behind them, silently reminding them it was there until their madness caught up them if the creature didn't get to them first -but here it was standing right before her, looming over her in plain sight, and looking down at her with a face without eyes or mouth. No features to speak of, just a bone-white coat and a black suit that stood out against it's pasty-white form, just like the stories told: Slendermane.

Pinkie drew in breath to scream but no sounds escaped her aside from labored, sporadic, choked noises not even somepony in the other room could hear. It seemed even her lungs had become paralyzed, just like the rest of her. She groped around the floor, trying to find something to maybe defend herself with, but only found her destroyed cupcakes -some of which were under the terrifying pony's hooves. A defeated squeak escaped her as she sank lower to the floor, more tears clouding her vision as she forced herself to continue to look up at the faceless specter.

"P...Please, don't-" Before she could even begin, she felt something brush up against her hooves and flank -a multitude of light, fluttering objects dancing around just outside of her vision. She was more than happy to look away from the nightmarish pony to see what exactly it was. Hundreds of small bits of paper had somehow, miraculously appeared on her floor, and were now being tossed about by a breeze coming from somewhere. Each of them was marked with a small, red number and nothing more, and at first, Pinkie stared blankly at them, unable to understand where they had suddenly come from much less their meaning. But then, something reached her ears. They weren't words, but there was a message there that she somehow was able to understand. She looked up at the Slendermane, mouth agape slightly as she took in what was being fed into her brain and deciphered it. Pinkie looked back to the papers again, but this time with a smile - a sick, overjoyed smile she had made only once before in her life.

She had found her calling, as well as a realization to what would make her cupcakes reach their true potential, all in one, soundless command. Pinkie couldn't have been more happy.

* * *

The town of Ponyville wasn't what it used to be. Fear had overtaken the once peaceful town, turning it into a hub of nightmares that was only mentioned in hushed whispers throughout Equestria. No one was sure when the madness started, but it really began when ponies began to notice them: The disappearances. Maybe it was when the brave and lively Rainbow Dash suddenly vanished from their skies that became dark in her absence. Maybe it was when generous, gorgeous Rarity left her shop one day and never came back. It could have been when the quiet but kind Fluttershy turned up missing, leaving her animals to fend for themselves and even starve. Or maybe it was when the oldest daughter of the Apple family, Apple Jack, no longer was around the buck apples on her family's farm. Maybe it was when the inquisitive bookworm, Twilight Sparkle, sent her last letter to Celestia and never returned to the library. One way or another, ponies far and wide began to take notice of these strange occurrences that began to run rampant throughout the town, and one by one they either left or were never heard from again.

"I don't know what's going on anymore. What can I learn about friendship if all of my friends are gone?" The supposed late Twilight Sparkle had written to the Princess. She herself had organized a search once she caught wind her student went missing shortly after writing her, but she was nowhere to be found.

The only one who remained was one Pinkie Pie, who still ran Sugar Cube Corner despite both Mr. and Mrs. Cake being one of the many claimed by whatever was causing ponies to wind up missing. Despite all of her friends vanishing, one after the other, she still remained the same: cheerful, spunky, and always willing to invite any wayward traveler in for a cupcake or two. Any pony who dared pass through the town would be drawn in by the smell of baked goods still wafting from the shop, still up and running when everywhere else seemed to be boarded up and deserted. Doors open and fresh baked goods at the ready, there would stand Pinkie, smiling and laughing like the world outside hadn't changed.

"Would you like a cupcake? I have one last batch of night-dazzle cupcakes -no pony can resist them!"

But something sinister lurked behind that cheerily smiling pony and her colorful baked goods out for sale. Beyond the counter lay a place where no pony ever escaped, and no pony could be the wiser until they found themselves in her lair, strapped to a table like many others before them. And there she would be, decorated in the skin, wings and horns of her victims like the whole outfit were some sort of colorful party dress. Putting on her usual, peppy smile for her unwilling guest, she would maim them while doing her best to keep them awake through the entire process -it wouldn't be a party if she was doing it all by herself, after all! Pinkie took great pleasure in being there when the last few sparks of life vanished from ponies eyes and great pride in the fact it was her who had taken those sparks away. And as long as anypony had a sweet tooth, she would have batch after batch of perfect, fantastic-tasting cupcakes.

Leaning over yet another one of her victims who was now laying cold and motionless on the blood-stained table (A gray pegasus pony who had beautiful -albeit askew- golden eyes Pinkie couldn't help but pluck from her head when the party first began), Pinkie couldn't help but reminisce about parties past, especially those of her five best friends. Those especially would be memories she would look on with a fondness no matter how much time passed. They were her friends, after all, how could she so easily forget them? Rarity sobbed and begged a lot and the very memory of her scream when she scalped her still made Pinkie shiver. Apple Jack had put up quite a fight and required Pinkie to use extra restraints -and, of course, a lot of her strength dissipated once she'd sawed off the Apple pony's powerful hind-legs. Fluttershy did nothing but apologize in hopes she would stop, and in her final moments, had finally found her voice and screamed in hopes that somepony would hear her, shortly before Pinkie tore out the shy pony's larynx. Twilight -oh, dear Twilight- had actually deduced she was the one behind the disappearances, and came to the shop to confront her. That being the case, it forced her to diverge from her usual method of sedating her victims and had to knock Twilight out with a frying pan. She had the second-most fun out of all of them, she had to admit. The entire time, there wasn't a moment where Twilight tried to convince her that what she was doing was wrong, that she could stop (silly Twilight, the rules don't work that way!).

But nothing could compare to when she did away with her closest friend out of all of them -the first of them to go. She heaved a nostalgic sigh as she pushed herself away from the table, gathering the gray-pegasus' wings and cutie mark as she went. Oh, yes, nothing would compare to when she threw that one, final party for-

"It's all your fault." At first, Pinkie thought it to be her mind recalling something her late friend had said to her, but there was no mistake that her ears had picked up somepony had just said, their words still echoing quietly through the chamber. She stopped in her tracks, dropping bloody supplies and body parts as her eyes opened wide. Had she heard things? She turned slightly, so that the room behind her was just in the corner of her vision, and for a quick, surprising second she could have sworn she saw a patch of vibrant blue floating somewhere in the otherwise dreary basement. With a sharp gasp she forced herself to spin all the way around to face the intruder, but once she did, she came to find an empty room, occupied by nothing but tools and one pegasus carcass awaiting her to harvest the remaining bits of sustenance from its' body. Pinkie stared down the emptiness, waiting for whoever she had seen to emerge from their hiding place, or speak again, but neither came to pass.

"I must be hearing things." She told herself with an uneasy smile as she whirled back around and picked up what she'd dropped. Trying to put it out of her mind, she hummed cheerily to herself as she lay everything out on another table near the edge of the room, cluttered with bits and pieces of ponies she was still trying to find a use for and tools that needed sharpening or a good, long soak. Above it all, sitting all by itself on a shelf, was a large jar filled with bits of paper. Out of everything she owned, every baking tool, every keepsake from ponies past, this was her most important possession. This was how she decided who would be the next, unfortunate soul to be laid out on that blood soaked table at her back. Each slip of paper contained a number the represented a pony somewhere in Equestria, and whichever pony's number was drawn at random would be the newest ingredient in her cupcakes.

Carefully, as if the jar was a priceless possession, she took it down from it's perch and set it on the table; this was the exciting part. Her heart pounding wildly, Pinkie uncapped the lid and reached in, stirring the small slips of paper around with her hoof as her tongue poked out from between her lips in concentration as she felt around inside the paper-filled jar. She continued to hum merrily to herself, the volume of her song growing in a chaotic way as she made her choice and pulled the lucky winner out of the container. Oh, who would the next, lucky pony be? She could hardly wait!

But something was wrong, and Pinkie's humming abruptly stopped when she came to find the paper she had drawn was completely blank. Confusedly, she flipped the small slip of paper over, but was only met with the same, white, unmarked surface. Maybe it was just a fluke, and in her mind, she reassured herself that in a collection of hundreds of papers, there would be at least one left over that didn't have a number on it yet. Troubled, but not completely worried about it, she threw the blank piece of paper over her shoulder and repeated the process, her humming a little more forced than before. This time, she jerked her hoof out a bit more impatiently, seeing how it was hard to enjoy the process a second time. However, just like before, the sheet of paper she produced seemed to be blank on both sides, too, no number to speak of. Now Pinkie was sufficiently bothered. Angrily grunting -giving up on humming all together- she plunged a hoof down into the sea of papers again and again, each time coming to find the paper she had pulled out had no numbers written on it at all. Blank, blank, blank, BLANK!

A frustrated scream was emitted from Pinkie as she furiously swiped her hoof at the jar itself this time, knocking it off the table and sending it hurtling to the ground. The thin, fragile glass shattered the moment the jar hit the floor as shattered, jagged pieces of it and the paper that had once been contained inside were strewn across the blood-speckled ground. Half regretting what she'd done, Pinkie dropped to the ground and began to try and pick up the shards of glass and the scattered bits of paper, but to her horror, she came to realize her eyes only met a sea of white. Not a single, red number caught her attention out of the pile of paper and glass.

"No..." Pinkie muttered, riffling through the chaotic mess as she repeated that single word over and over again. The stray chunks of the broken jar hiding among the paper jabbed at her flesh and cut it open, but she hardly cared. She continued to frantically search, but now the only thing that marked any of the papers was the crimson stain of her own blood dripping from her maimed legs. "No, no, no, nononono, NO!"

"You brought this on yourself." Again came the voice she heard before -the rough, tomboyish voice of somepony who had long since left that world. Seething furiously in response, Pinkie whipped her head around, only -again- to find no one at all. But this time, she refused to just turn back around and ignore what she had just heard. Somepony was lurking in her lair, she HEARD them!

"I know you're here!" She screamed into the silence, stomping over in the direction she'd heard the voice. "There's no use hiding, I WILL find you!" With a swift swipe of her hoof she knocked several of her tools set on a nearby table onto the floor, and when the sound of something shifting came from her rear, she turned around and did the exact same thing, trying possibly to scare the perpetrator out of hiding. It wasn't long before the entire room was in complete disarray, and whoever Pinkie had heard had gone completely unfound. Breathing heavily, she continued to look around the room, desperately searching. Broken glass crunched underneath her hooves as she wandered the now small-seeming room aimlessly, searching for the unseen intruder and leaving behind bloody hoof prints.

"Come out!" She shouted with slurred words, catching herself on a nearby table. "I said come out!" In that moment, a faint sound of a second group of hooves echoed from behind her, and with a shrill cry of "AH-HA!" Pinkie whipped around, only to have something hard and dull collide with her skull. She remained conscious at first, only with blurred vision as she tried to make out her attacker in the new-found haze that was slowly giving way to a dull ache beginning to resonate from where she'd been struck. However, before she could feel the full force of the blow, the world seemed to move from beneath her, leaving her tumbling downward. A choked "ah" escaped her as she looked up as she fell. All her fading vision could pick up was a bright blue blob standing out in the darkness that watched her as she fell, but before darkness took her over and she hit the floor, she managed to mumble one last thing.

"Rainbow... Dash."

* * *

Pinkie groaned, her eyes feeling heavy as she forced them to open. Shadows slowly formed into shapes, and then into things she actually recognized: She was still in her basement, paper, glass and dissection tools scattered all over the floor, just as they had been before she'd been knocked out -oh, right, she'd been knocked out by somepony, hadn't she!? She tried to propel herself forward, still desperate to find them, but she came to find her entire body felt paralyzed.

"W-what!?" She gasped, craning her neck in all directions to find she was strapped to the very table she, herself, used to restrain other ponies before she had her way with them. Confusion gave way to panic as she began to thrash about wildly in futile attempt to free herself. "H-Hey! This isn't funny! HEY!"

"Really? I think it's hilarious, myself." A voice cackled, the pony who spoke being just outside of her vision -but not for very long. With uneven hoofsteps they stepped into her field of vision, and all Pinkie would do was go completely slack-jawed, a surprised, dry squeak being all that escaped her as her eyes widened in disbelief. There, standing before her, was Rainbow Dash herself, much more worse for ware than she had been before Pinkie had killed her -or so she thought at least. The blue pegasus' wings were gone -torn and ripped off of her, just like before. Her cutie mark was no longer marked on her flank, and all that remained was a shallow, bloody gash that revealed her toned muscle beneath her skin. Her body was stained with splatters of her own blood and bruises stood out beneath her fine, blue coat. And to top it all off, a wide hole was made down her stomach, the skin hanging loosely down, just barely concealing ribs. Nothing hung out of the blue pony's deep-red insides since there were no organs to speak of inside of her -if Pinkie recalled, she's taken all of them out of her last she saw her. "My best prank yet, if I do say so."

"R-Rainbow..." Pinkie stammered, shrinking back against the table. "You... you shouldn't be here... you're... you're-"

"Dead?" Rainbow Dash asked with a tilt of her head (a sickening, squelching noise came from beneath her skin as she did so, like the pony was filled with nothing but loose, squishy matter instead of muscle and bone). "Well, answer me this, Pinkie..." She drifted closer to her former friend, getting close enough that the pink pony could see each, individual vein in her bloodshot eyes. "Do I look all that alive to you, huh?" Pinkie turned away, tightly shutting her eyes, only to have Rainbow Dash force her to look forward again. "Do I!?"

"I...I don't know! I just don't know!" Pinkie cried, trying to free herself from the other pony's grip. "You... you can't be real! You can't be real, you can't!" As if to answer her, a blinding pain erupted from her shoulder, and Pinkie shrieked in response, not having expected it. Her eyes shot open and immediately filled with tears as she looked to the source of the pain. Rainbow Dash had picked up a larger piece of broken glass and drove it deep into her shoulder, and now that she was looking at the wound, she made sure to twist and jerk the glass-made-weapon around inside of her. Pinkie cried out weakly this time, shutting her eyes tightly as tears escaped and slipped down her cheeks.

"If I wasn't real, could I do this?" Rainbow Dash asked with a smirk, jerking the shard of glass again, widening the deep gash. "I don't think so."

"Stop... please stop! This isn't fun!" Pinkie begged through clenched teeth, but the other pony only laughed hysterically in response, before getting dangerously close to her face. Her cold breath hit Pinkie in a foul-smelling wave.

"Isn't fun!? I'm sorry, I didn't have much fun when you did this to me, so why should I let YOU have any fun now!?" She snapped. "It's my chance to have fun this time, and boy-" She paused, yanking the shard of glass from out of Pinkie's shoulder before jamming it in again in a different place near the original wound. More blood spurted fourth, dying the blue Pony's coat with droplets of crimson. "-Am I having fun!" Pinkie cried out again, writhing on the table in desperate attempt to maybe escape the restraints. Struggle only made her injuries bleed more and widen the new hole in her shoulder Dash had just made.

"IT HURTS! IT HURTS!" She cried. Never once had she felt such pain. She'd been inflicting pain on other ponies like this for so long, but never once had anypony lay a hand on her, not like this. Was this what they'd all felt, this maddening, searing pain that threatened to drive her absolutely crazy? While she cried as Rainbow Dash yanked the glass from her shoulder, Pinkie felt -for the first time since she began turning ponies into cupcakes- remorse.

"I...I'm..." She muttered through trembling lips, watching Rainbow Dash turn her back to her and trot over to where she'd thrown her dissection tools to the floor.

"What was that? Speak up, I can't hear you from over here." Dash chuckled darkly. Pinkie winced as she readied words, fighting through the pain throbbing in her shoulder as well as her head, where she had been struck.

"I'm sorry!" She sobbed, her words shaky and pathetic sounding. "I'm so sorry, Dash! I'm so... so very sorry!" Rainbow Dash was silent for a moment, filling the room with a painful quiet. But Pinkie was hopeful as she smiled pleadingly at her former friend, leaning as far forward as she could with being bound to the table. "You're my closest friend... I'm sorry for doing those horrible things to you! I'm sorry to you and everyone, so please..." Before she could finish, Dash turned around, a wide smirk on her face that made the once hopeful Pinkie to draw back again.

"If you're sorry about what you did to everyone else, don't tell it to me." She told her in a chilling voice. "Tell it to them." Confusion and shock written on her face, Pinkie looked about the darkened room where she heard footsteps echoing all around her. Emerging from the shadows were her four other friends, all individually mutilated just as they'd been when she'd taken them to this very place. They said nothing to her, only glared at her and laughed, filling the room with bone-chilling, mocking laughter that drilled it's way into Pinkie's brain. As they drew closer, each one of them picked up a tool she'd knocked to the ground, and to that, Pinkie began to desperately twist and pull against her restraints, crying out in fear and desperation each time she found her efforts were in vain and that the five ponies she used to call friends were getting closer with tools meant to rend flesh and bone.

"I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY!" Pinkie shouted as her eyes grew wider and wider in fear. "I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!"

"Oh, we know you won't." Rainbow Dash cackled as the table Pinkie was strapped to was tilted back, forcing Pinkie to look at the ceiling instead of the ponies coming towards her -and something else. Staring back at her with a white, blank face was the pony that had granted her the chance to wreak so much havoc in the first place. She stared back, fear welling up in her eyes as the hoofsteps drew nearer and nearer, but the one who had offered her a chance to find her true calling said nothing to her, only stared as it's face was joined by the bloody, grinning faces of her friends and the tools they wielded. "Your number came up, after all."

* * *

If you travel to Ponyville, you won't run into one pony who won't whisper to you the horrible past of the town. They'll weave a tale of a cheery, baker pony who no pony suspected to do any wrong. But behind her smile- behind her constant parties and baked goods- lay something sinister, but no pony suspected her, not even for a moment, not even after her friends vanished and she continued to smile like they'd never even left. In truth she'd killed them- took them to a chamber deep beneath the bakery she worked in, sliced and cut them up and used their bodies as ingredients in her baked goods. Her friends, the ponies gracious enough to let her work at the baker, her own family, even strangers on the street weren't safe from her. And in the end, not even she was safe from her own madness, or so they say. One day, after she closed shop, she traveled to that blood-covered chamber where the blood of so many ponies had been spilled, and dissected herself.

The town has returned to it's bright, happy state, now with the murdering pony dead and gone. But her story still drifts through the town, keeping it's populace always on guard, always secretly living in fear. There is always the chance a new pony would rise up to take her place, after all. There is always the sinking suspicion that the once happy, party pony hadn't made the choice to start killing ponies by herself. Maybe it is only a matter of time before whoever approached her with the tempting offer finds somepony else to continue her work. There are still ponies in Ponyville, after all; Her work still isn't done.


End file.
